


and let me be anchored (unmoored as i am)

by shinebrightarmy_losthalorights



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is an absolute mess, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Slash, Stiles would ramble away everyone's problems if he could
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 02:35:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11568540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinebrightarmy_losthalorights/pseuds/shinebrightarmy_losthalorights
Summary: The anniversary of the fire, Derek hides. He does a shitty job at it, but where else could he go?





	and let me be anchored (unmoored as i am)

The anniversary of the fire, Derek hides. He does a shitty job at it, but where else could he go?

***

 

Any other day, the steady rumble of Stiles’ Jeep would’ve taken Derek by surprise-- but today, today he expects it. And Derek is resigned. As spastic as Stiles usually is, Derek has learned by months of constant arguing (mutual), goading (one-sided), and grudging team work (“Fuck you, don’t die on me _now_ or I swear to god-“ “Shut up, just get me into the car-” “Are you crazy? You think you’re gonna drive with half your _guts_ out of your _-_ ” “Stiles!” ) that there is nothing in the world that can stop Stiles when he sets his mind to something. Anything. Or anyone. No exception.

 

Come to think of it, he’s like a puppy that never lets anything it cares about go once it has set its little teeth in it. And, to Derek’s bafflement, Stiles has come to actually give a shit about him (even when Derek doesn’t want any company, and especially not today, here— the crumbling house he’s sitting in should’ve been full of people, _family_ , should’ve been whole, should definitely not be a burnt out husk of- _his fault, it’s all-_ )

 

There’s a door slam cutting his thoughts short, there’s the hummingbird heartbeat that Derek’s gotten way too used to by now, and there are stomping footsteps straight from the car to the skeleton of a house. Derek shrinks further back into the corner, at the bottom of the stairs. Not like it does any good, because Stiles is _insane_ and takes everything Derek does as a challenge.

 

“I know you’re here dude, now stop hiding—“ Stiles comes into view, then immediately sees him. Squatting in the corner. Derek does his best to look stoic, but he’s pretty sure he looks guilty, instead.  

 

“There you are! Did you lose your phone again, or are you just a dick, don’t answer that, I already know the answer—“

 

Stiles talks with his hands. He _talks_ , with his neck, his shoulders, his entire body. It mostly drives Derek _crazy_ , because Stiles sometimes just smacks into things without blinking, and he’s like motion personified, and the only time he’s ever seen Stiles truly (terribly) still is when he was down on the floor with kanima venom, physically paralyzed, his mouth _still running_. Even in fear Stiles never. Stops. Derek is irritated (impressed) by it.

 

“—and you’re scaring the puppies with your angst, okay? Erica actually asked me for something in class today, did you know how freaky that was? Do I have to drag you out of the house? Because I— uh, can’t. I physically can’t drag you out. I will call Scott, _Derek_ ,” Stiles threatens him with— with a waggling finger, like he’s scolding a bad dog or something. _Insane_.

 

The wood is digging into his back. Derek shifts, but Stiles just. Looks at him. And his face is doing something—the corners of his eyes aren’t quite so tight anymore, and his posture loses the tension. It’s strange, this easier (harder) version of Stiles that he slips into like a second skin, and Derek still thinks him a mystery even after seeing _this_ him, _this_ Stiles, time after time.

 

“Hey,” even his voice softens, and Derek should be mad that he’s being talked down like— like some kind of wild animal, but for some reason, he just. Doesn’t. Against all reason, his shoulders are relaxing instead.

 

“If you don’t want to go anywhere, we don’t have to go anywhere, just— get out of the corner, man, you’re making me sad,” Stiles beckons him forward with his hand. Derek doesn’t want to trust it. But Stiles’ mouth crooks down, and his eyes look more worried by the second, and Derek is— is moving. Towards Stiles, who folds his long fumbling legs, sits down on the floor, a steady presence.

 

They sit there. Stiles breathes softly, and his heartbeat slows, though his feet tap and his hands are restless.

 

Derek finds that he doesn’t mind.

**Author's Note:**

> First work, I have no idea where this came from?? No beta, all the shameful mistakes are mine, criticism and corrections are so welcome, Kudos and comments are welcome, and thank you for reading this <3.


End file.
